You, Too, Can Sleep on Sea Ice and Track Polar Bears

Trade beaches for icebergs on a summer excursion to the tiny hamlet of Pond Inlet in the Canadian Arctic.

72 Degrees North

The tiny town of Pond Inlet (pop. roughly 1,500)—called Mittimatalik in the local Iniktutut language—is out there, on the northern tip of Baffin Island in the Canadian territory of Nunavut. To put it in context, Pond Inlet is 2,000 miles due north of Montreal, and some 1,200 miles south of the North Pole. This is the launching point for Arctic adventures, including camping on land-fast ice (sea ice that’s attached to the coastline) near the “floe edge,” where the winter ice meets the open water. Sea kayaking tours wend between icebergs and narwhals in Inuit country.

Bylot Island

This is the view from the hamlet of Pond Inlet in mid-June, looking across frozen Eclipse Sound to Bylot Island, a rugged and mountainous stretch that's just off the north coast of Baffin Island. Bylot Island is home to migratory birds and a healthy polar bear population, plus Sirmilik, one of Canada’s least visited national parks (how's that for a distinction?). The backcountry park occupies most of the island and can be visited by dog team, snowmobile, or boat with a licensed tour operator.

Getting There

First Air—"the Airline of the North"—flies from points south in Canada, including Montreal and Ottawa, to Iqaluit, the capital of Nunavut, with cargo for the remote north. You’ll continue on to Pond Inlet by turboprop.

Waiting for the Thaw

Boats beached on the sands of Pond Inlet will have to wait for the spring thaw to be released into the iceberg-laden waters. During the winter months and into early summer, residents of the north travel across the sea ice using dogsleds or traditional wooden Inuit sleds called qamutiks pulled by Ski-Doos.

Into the Wild

Our expedition with Canadian outfitter Black Feather left from Pond Inlet aboard qamutiks, pulled by Ski-Doos across frozen sea ice several meters thick. The sleds carried us across Eclipse Sound to the floe edge. It’s a hunting ground for Arctic animals such as polar bears and narwhals drawn to the food sources (seals, fish, birds) that converge here. Some 74 species of Arctic seabirds live on Bylot Island in Baffin Bay, home to important breeding colonies and nesting grounds.

Setting Up Camp

For several weeks in June, Black Feather runs expeditions where guests spend the night in tents set atop the frozen ocean ice some 40 miles “out to sea.” I feared I’d be cold and miserable but found that as long as you’re dressed for the occasion (a Canada Goose down parka with coyote firm trim, in my case, with wool layers underneath) you can keep remarkably warm in temperatures that hover around freezing—even in summer’s midnight sun. Tents are raised on platforms above the ice and have air mattresses and Arctic-rated sleeping bags to maximize warmth. I slept like a baby despite the nonstop daylight (bring eyeshades).

Ice Melt

A Ski-Doo pulls a qamutik across ice that has just begun to thaw in June. The top layer of slush and water looks alarming but conceals nearly seven feet of solid sea ice, making it safe to transport people and gear to more remote areas for unparalleled wildlife viewing. For several weeks after official tours have stopped, the Inuit still travel across the ice to hunting grounds at the floe edge, where they seek out narwhals feeding on halibut and Arctic char.

Icy Terrain

Tidal shifts cause large cracks, called leads, to form on the ice’s surface. The leads form in the same spots (near the shore’s edge and where headlands cause the water flow to narrow) almost every year. The Inuit are experts at navigating the icy terrain.

Edge of the World

We spent our days walking along the floe edge, poetically referred to by a man in our group as “the edge of the world at the top of the world,” scouting for wildlife and breathing in all that solitude and space. You’re at 72 degrees north here and some 40 miles out to sea, with nothing between you and Greenland except the constantly moving icebergs that blow in and out with tidal shift and winds. Don’t turn your back on a good iceberg photo— chances are the scene will have changed the next time you turn around.

Icebergs

This iceberg, like some 90 percent of the large icebergs found near Pond Inlet, likely floated over from Greenland after calving from a glacier. It’s frozen in place thanks to the surrounding land-fast ice during the winter months, but will be set free into open water in July, once the thaw has fully set in.

Armed Guards

Conor Goddard, a guide with Black Feather, carries a rifle as a defense against polar bears that get too curious. Usually, starting a Ski-Doo’s engine is enough to send a bear that ranges too close running, he says. The next step is a warning shot fired into the air, which usually does the trick. During expeditions an armed guard is always on duty to watch for bears and protect the camp.

Tracking Polar Bears

This track, I was told, belonged to a medium bear that had been seen passing in front of the same tents we’d been sleeping in that belonged to a Black Feather expedition in the area just before our own. Polar bears move easily over thin ice by splaying their legs wide to most effectively distribute their weight. The bear belonging to these tracks had likely been hunting ring seals at the floe edge.

Bear Necessities

The polar bears eluded our group during my short overnight trip to the floe edge (your chances of seeing them during a standard nine-day itinerary are far better). But the highlight was an entire day spent watching hundreds of narwhals finning through the icy water mere meters from where we stood at the ice’s edge.

Narwhals

There was a rhythm to the narwhals’ breathing that took my breath away every time (wah-whoosh!), but only our Inuit guides could predict the moment the whales would begin tusking or prepare to dive deep, revealing their spotted bodies and delicate flukes.

Local Guide

Elijah Panipakoocho, 70, a member of the local Hunters and Trappers Association, grew up in Pond Inlet on a diet of narwhal, seal, and polar bear. It wasn’t until 1973 that he ate his first vegetable, followed by his first banana a year later. He carried a metal rod with him at all times during our expedition with Black Feather (representatives from the Hunters and Trappers Association must be present on all tours) to test the ice’s thickness, and jokingly referred to the rod as his GPS.

Remains of the Day

The Inuit still hunt narwhal, abundant in these parts, for food. They shoot the animals with rifles and use their Ski-Doos to haul the heavy bodies onto the ice, where the meat is harvested to be shared with the community; the remains feed the polar bears. (If there’s a tusk, it will be harvested and kept as a trophy or sold to make traditional carvings).

Staying Warm

Appropriate clothing to withstand the Arctic temperatures is a given. Many Inuit women still sew their own parkas, often combining synthetic materials (the handmade parkas pictured here are made from fabric donated to Northern communities by Canada Goose)with traditional materials such as Arctic fox, musk ox, or polar bear fur hunted by a family member or friend.

Walkabout

A tourist goes on walkabout on the land-fast ice during an expedition stop near Mount Herodier. The water that appears to be a pond is more of a puddle atop the ice, with several feet of solid ice below it.

When the Ice Breaks

Pack ice begins breaking off from the floe edge at a rapid rate in June, and by July the sea ice is no longer safe for expeditions. It is well on its way to dissolving, freeing icebergs that have been trapped in place all winter. The shape-shifting scenery is almost as fascinating to watch as any wildlife that happens along.